


I'm missing you more than I should

by Lialy



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Fix-it fic, Fluff and Angst, Post Season 1, Sidney wants to recover Charlotte, but Charlotte doesn't trust him anymore, so Sidney has some convincing to do and a heart to mend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-08 06:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lialy/pseuds/Lialy
Summary: "Charlotte," he said, almost breathless, still the same deep, husky voice she had grown to love so much. Those were his eyes, piercing her and keeping her grounded at the same time. He glanced at her sister, and then corrected himself. "Miss Heywood".It was indeed him.Sidney Parker. There. In front of her.----Charlotte is trying to move on when Sidney Parker unexpectedly comes to find her. Can she find the courage to trust him again?





	I'm missing you more than I should

Home didn’t feel like home anymore. The rooms felt small and constrained her, and there was no beach, no sea that eased her breathing. She thought to herself that it must be that; that she needed the waves to feel better, to help her ease the pain in her chest. She’d rather think that than face the truth, sometimes.

But she wasn’t that naïve to believe that.

She was also angry at herself. She didn’t want to give that much power to Mr Sidney Parker. She didn’t want his absence to feel like a knife permanently stuck in her chest. She wanted to be able to enjoy her life once again, to marvel in the soft caress of the grass against her bare arms, the sun warming her skin, the laughter of her brother and sisters playing.

Would it ever stop? And, most importantly, did she want it to stop? Or did she want to tend to her wounded heart only to keep his memory alive?

“The pain of a broken heart will make you feel hopeless, dear Charlotte. And that is precisely the time in which you must be your strongest self.”

Lady Susan had told her that in her latest letter, now hidden between the pages of her book. She put it aside and closed her eyes, her jacket acting as a kind of pillow, and let her thoughts drift. “I will do whatever I can to help in Sanditon, only because I know how much you loved it there. I do not want your memories there to be tainted that much. Please, remember as well all the fun you had, all the people you met, and come see me in London. Promise me”.

She needed to answer her, but she had not had the courage yet. Lady Susan had been kind enough not to mention his name, but his presence was in that letter as much as it was in her everyday thoughts. She was lacking in everything. She needed to sleep, to rest, to stop thinking about him. She knew all of that, and yet she was doing none of it. Instead, she spent her nights fretting, wondering once and again how their conversations had gone, trying to figure out when, how, why he had done what he had done.

And she had concluded that, despite everything, his words hadn’t meant anything. His actions hadn’t meant anything. His duty was greater than her potential affection for her.

He hadn’t told her he loved her.

“Charlotte! Are you crying?” her sister’s voice boomed over her, and Charlotte covered her head with her hands. “You have to come to the house.”

“I do not want to. I am perfectly fine here,” she patted her cheeks dry and sat on the grass. “And I was not crying, why would you say that?”

Her sister pointed at her face with a sad smile. “Your face is all puffy and red and your eyes are watery. Oh, come now, Charlotte, you must tell me what happened in Sanditon. You have not been yourself for weeks now!”.

Charlotte stared at her hands. The wind ruffled her hair and she put her bonnet once again.

“I will tell you. I promise. But I need to understand it myself first.”

She was safe now, back at her home. She would stand on her feet once again. In fact, she did so. “Why would you want me to go the house? Did something happen?” She turned around, and saw a man approaching from the distance.

“You have a visitor!”, her sister said, almost squealing. “A very impatient one, as he refused to wait inside the house. He must be so eager to see you!” her sister said something else, but Charlotte didn’t hear her. She blinked twice, three times.

It was him. He was coming towards her. He was real. He was there. In _her _house.

But…

How dared he?

He came up in front of her, cheeks lightly flushed but with a determined stare. "Charlotte," he said, almost breathless, still the same deep, husky voice she had grown to love so much. Those were his eyes, piercing her and keeping her grounded at the same time. He glanced at her sister, and then corrected himself. "Miss Heywood."

It was indeed him.

Sidney Parker. There. In front of her.

Her sister elbowed her, and Charlotte cleared her throat. "Mr Parker, this is my sister Alison," she kept her hands behind her so they wouldn’t see how badly they were shaking. Her sister curtsied and started a small conversation with him, though he kept staring at Charlotte and she kept concentrating on his neck and had he ever had that tiny freckle right under his left ear?

“Charlotte, shall we go to the house? I’m sure they must be expecting us and your guest must be thirsty!” Alison said, grabbing her gently by the arm. She nodded absently, and Mr Parker followed them.

_What is he doing here? _

And still she kept her mouth shut.

“Your parents were very nice in telling me that you were in the premises of the house,” he said to her. He was walking_ beside_ her! “They sent your sister to fetch you, but I wanted to do that myself.”

Her sister chuckled. Why was she chuckling? Charlotte couldn’t fathom why she was so chipper. “I’m afraid you have left her quite speechless, Mr Parker. I better go ahead and tell our parents that you are to join us for a cup of tea!”, and off she went.

Just like that, Charlotte was left alone with the person she needed to forget the most. The air felt charged between them, and she felt him gaze intently at her. She stopped walking, and Sydney stopped as well. She looked up and there he was, all pain and caution in his eyes, as if he could sense her inner turmoil.

“What are you doing here, Mr Parker?”, she demanded, her voice stronger than her expectations. He stepped closer to her, standing in front of her. He took off his hat, maybe to keep his hands busy, maybe because he was just as nervous as he was.

She didn’t move.

She did hold back her tears.

“I came to see you. I needed to see how you were faring.”

“I am quite alright. You do not need to worry about me anymore,” she said after a heartbeat. “I do hope all is well with Tom and Mary, Mr Parker”.

“Call me by my name, Charlotte” he said, voice hoarse. “You must know that I am here because of you. I broke my engagement to Miss Champion.”

She inhaled. Though she didn’t expect it, she kind of _knew. _Why else would he be there? He was a man of honor.

He smelled of mint and soap and freshly cut beard and she so desperately wanted to run her hands through his hair.

_How was he so close to her?_ If she decided to move her hand, it would brush his. They would be touching. She breathed heavily. “You broke off your engagement… _now_. Not _then_. You…”

_You still broke my heart_, she almost said.

At that he looked kind of relieved, not pained. His eyes recovered a spark she had seen in the last days prior to his departure to London, when they were kind of… together. “But, you see, Charlotte, everything has changed. Lady Susan has invested in Sanditon, and with her help and all our efforts combined, Tom is safe. His debts are under control. Of course, he will still struggle for a bit, but he will endure it. We all will”, he grabbed her hands. “We can be together.”

She tried to breathe, but her chest was too tight. She saw herself back at that cliff, at that last dance they shared. She saw herself in her carriage back to Sanditon, all tears and despair. Her heart, shattered.

“Mr Parker…” she managed to say, and he closed his eyes, and although she wanted to caress his flushed cheeks and put away all his fears and…

God. She was so weak.

She tried to calm her breathing.

“You have to call me Miss Heywood. I’m not Charlotte to you anymore, Mr Parker”, she said. And with that, she freed her hands from his soft and warm grip and walked to the house, her heart beating fast against her chest.

And still, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard him follow suit.

\-----

Later that night, Alison was adamant of not letting her fall asleep.

As if she could.

“Mr Parker stayed for tea and promised to return tomorrow. He talked to father, Charlotte, and said that he wanted to pursue a courtship with you,” she whispered in their bed.

“I know,” Charlotte said, keeping her eyes closed. “I was there, remember? Father told me. And Mr Parker himself.”

Alison properly squealed.

“How are you not more excited about all of this? You should be ecstatic!”

Her excitement was almost contagious, and Charlotte kept her head buried under the pillow so she could not see her flushed cheeks.

Her voice was barely audible. “I do not want to talk about it.”

Her sister hit her arm.

“Alison!”

“Whatever is wrong with you, Charlotte?”

“He…” she trailed off, uncertain. “He promised some things in Sanditon. Things he did not fulfill later. I am not sure if I can trust him again.”

“He came back!”

Charlotte put the pillow away and blinked several times. She found her eyes strangely watery, and she quickly brushed away her tears. Her sister was surprisingly quiet all of a sudden.

“But what if it is too late, Alison? What if he leaves again?”

Her sister closed her mouth and looked at her with sadness. Then, she cuddled beside her and put her arm across her chest, hugging her tight.

“Whatever you decide, sister. I am beside you.”

Charlotte could barely control her tears after that, but if her sister noticed, she didn’t say a word.

\----

He came in the morning, like he said he would. They were having breakfast when he arrived.

Her father looked at her as if he _knew_. “I did read the letters you sent to us from Sanditon, you know,” he said while sipping his cup of coffee. Charlotte’s cheeks reddened, and her siblings started squeaking in excitement when they heard the door open. “You did talk about Mr Sidney Parker quite often.”

“I did not!”

“Oh, do not fool yourself, child. We all knew how you felt about him,” interceded her mother right on time before Mr Parker entered the dining room, dressed all smart with his hat and his vest and those lips that Charlotte still dreamed about kissing again.

Charlotte looked away, and Mr Parker apologized for intruding so early in the morning. By the tone of his voice, he didn’t feel sorry at all. “Oh, do join us for breakfast, Mr Parker,” requested her mother.

Alison, next to Charlotte, stood up. “Yes, please. You can sit here if you wish, Mr Parker. I am already finished.”

Charlotte focused on her hands, clasping the skirt of her dress tightly in her lap. She heard noise and voices but couldn’t focus on anything besides the fact that he was pulling the chair in, closer than it was before, and was seating on her right. How did he do that? He filled the room, and all her body itched towards his. She inhaled. The room fell quiet for a second, and then one of her youngest brothers spilled his porridge all over himself, which caused enough noise and ruckus that no one paid attention to them anymore.

“I did not mean to intrude like this,” he said to her, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “I am sorry if I am putting you in an awkward position.”

“You would not be here if you were sorry, would you?”

If he was hurt at her words, he didn’t show it. He was persistent. He provoked her, he had to know that. He provoked her with that jaw of his and his perfectly tousled hair and those beautiful eyes.

He leaned into her. “I just want to be with you, Charlotte. Please tell me what to do,” at his pleading voice, Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. She could end his misery. Her own misery. She could do that in a second. His hand had moved to the edge of his seat, and his fingers were grazing her hand, clasped tight against the edge of hers.

She wanted so desperately to…

“I cannot do this. You cannot do this to me again,” she whispered. She stood up abruptly. “I am going for a walk,” she said to the room. “Please, excuse me,” and though her father furrowed his brow, he gave a slight nod. She rushed out the room, Mr Parker trailing behind her.

God, he was stubborn.

She walked fast, almost jogging, until the house was way behind them and there was no one in sight, only green fields and trees and a lightly clouded sky. She felt breathless, not because of the walk, but because she knew he was following her. She wanted that, maybe. She didn’t understand her own motives, but she wanted him close. Her heart was a tangled mess.

She finally stopped on a hilltop, arms hugging her tight. One, two seconds later, and he came up behind her. She could feel his warmth; that’s how close he was. If she stepped back, her back would touch his chest.

She closed her eyes. He wasn’t touching her, but all her body felt on the verge of falling, her skin too sensitive to any movement he made. The air was cold, but she couldn’t even feel it.

“Miss Heywood,” he simply said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand hovering over her arms. She waited expectantly, and then he dropped them to his sides.

She shivered. “What did you expect was going to happen, Mr Parker?” she said, without turning around. She felt him move a little bit to her side, and now his vest was touching her back, which she could feel underneath the thin dress she was wearing. However, she barreled on. It was easier to do it when she wasn’t looking directly at him. “Did you come here only out of honor, because you felt bad about what happened? Because if that is the reason, please rest assured: you are free of your duties. You do not owe me anything, Mr Parker.”

“Do you really think I came back out of duty, Miss Heywood? No…”, he cleared his throat, and now one hand was touching her arm. Her skin burned under the fabric of her sleeve. “Charlotte, you cannot think that. Not truly. Please, look at me, I beg you. You have been avoiding my gaze since yesterday.”

“That is not true. I looked at you,” she paused. “Yesterday.”

He dared to snort, as if that amused him, and that infuriated her, so she turned around to call him on that and there he was, all presence and body and heart and where had he left his hat? There he was, that hair of his. Her chest bumped lightly into his, but he didn’t move away.

Nor did she.

“Charlotte,” he said again, her name something sacred in his lips. She couldn’t think properly, not with him so close to her, but she couldn’t move either. She put her hands against his vest, clear skin contrasting with the dark of the fabric. She focused on that. “You keep pushing me away. Stop pushing me away, please.”

“You hurt me,” she said, and her voice broke. He was completely still, but he didn’t remove his hands from her arms, his thumbs drawing small circles, soothing her. “You made me a promise. You said… you said you would come back _to me_, and instead you came back with _her_. Do you know how that felt, Sidney? Do you have any idea how miserable and worthless I felt? Your promise _meant _something to me, but I guess it did not mean anything to you,” and she didn’t know she was feeling all of that until she said it out loud and discovered that it was true. She clenched her hands, and he wrapped his arms gently around her.

He didn’t say anything for a minute. He just embraced her, and she allowed herself to feel him again, all his warmth and loving presence. How could she push him away? Her hands were shaking again, but they were squished between them and he didn’t realize. “I am sorry, Charlotte. I truly am. You must know that I did what I thought was best for my family, even if it meant living an unhappy life for the rest of my life. I thought I did not have any other choice.”

She punched him slightly, but he didn’t move an inch. He wasn’t going to release her anytime soon. “But you did! There is always another choice!”, she looked up at him and she saw his face. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and he looked down, ashamed. “What if you had proposed to me _before_ you went to London? Would you still have broken your engagement with me to marry Miss Champion, with everything that that would have entailed for me?”

He closed his eyes and nudged her cheek with his nose. Her heart thumped against her ribcage. “I do not know what to say to that. I want to think that, in that case, I would not have done it, but then I think that I should not have engaged myself with Miss Champion when my promises were with you. When my heart was with you,” his words tied her to him, there was barely any space between them, and she couldn’t feel the cold air anymore. “You must think the worst of me, Charlotte. You are right, _of course_ you are. I should have done something else. I…” he trailed off, and were those his lips kissing her cheek? She was burning inside and out. “If you tell me to leave, I will. I promise you I will leave you alone, I will let you live your life and marry a man who truly deserves you, because I do not. Of that I am certain.”

She froze at that. Did she want him to leave her?

She turned her face slightly, and now her lips were in front of his and his nose was touching hers. “I do not want you to go, Sidney. But I am afraid you will break my heart again. I do not know how to trust you.”

“Let me show you”, he said. “Let me prove you how much I love you, Charlotte. And if at some point you are uncertain, I will step back. Let me make it up to you.”

His hands moved up from her back and they were gently caressing her wet face. She got lost in his eyes, and she grabbed him by the shoulders. Her lips brushed against his chin. “Alright,” she said. “Prove it to me.”

He smiled at that, his joy reaching his eyes, and she found she was smiling as well. Her cheeks hurt from all that happiness. “Would you let me kiss you, Charlotte?”, he said, and she nodded and then his lips were on hers, first barely touching, and then she was tangling her arms behind his neck and he moaned or grunted and his tongue was doing all kinds of marvelous and she felt as if she was finally tasting water after being thirsty for so long. “Charlotte,” he said her name like a mantra, like something to be revered. “I love you. I will make you the happiest woman on Earth, you just wait and see.”

And though her chest felt tight and she still had fears, she believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending of season 1 left me broken and sad (where is our promised happy ending?!) and had me writing this story to compensate for it. It started as a one-shot but it got too long too fast. If you would like a second part, let me know!


End file.
